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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 13, Number 2, June 2019
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Antonietta Losito
Mottola, Puglia, Italy


Even the flies…

The conversation has long pauses. There’s no sound except our sipping of the hot tea served to us. Since the last time I saw her, she looks thinner and tired. She has dark circles under her eyes, and on a cheekbone, under the powder, I seem to notice a purplish tinge.

"Maybe you should change the air," I tell her. "You could take the children and come stay at my house.”

She doesn’t answer and nervously chews a lock of long hair. I notice her chewed-off fingernails.

So I tell her about the exhibition market of craft activities, the walks, bicycle rides, but she interrupts me.

"My husband thinks your house is too wet for us, and that the country is boring.”

"My husband thinks…my husband says…my husband feels…”

I let the words remain suspended in the air. We go out greeting each other with a wave of the hand.

bitter cold—
the glazed look in the eyes
of a manikin

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